Reckoning
by Auna
Summary: Futurefic Series #5
1. Chapter 1

Title: Reckoning  
  
Summary: Next in Brennik/Aeric series  
  
Spoilers: Possibly every episode, but you have to figure out which ones  
  
Rating: HEAVY PG-13 for violence; the blood flows in this one, folks  
  
Disclaimer: You know which ones are not mine, but I'm laying claim to the fish. they're ALL MINE...(blame me)  
  
Credits: THANK YOU!!! To scrubschick and ScaperRed, they were awsome and inspirational. The best line in this entire thing is ScaperRed's and I have denoted it with a * so that in any responses, credit can be given to the person deserving. Thank you to Sanchez and Poulos, my creative and technical consultants who will recognize many of these parts.  
  
Authors note: Well... turns out that although Target Practice was great as a stand alone, this one isn't. You NEED to have read that one to get this one, it's a bit of a prequel. Actually, you pretty much need to have read all of them, there are references to them throughout this whole thing. So, here's the links. You might want to re-read Target Practice if it's been a little while.  
  
Finding Herself  
  
http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=1301757  
  
Death and Resurection  
  
http://users.boardnation.com/~scapeartist/index.php?board=4;action=display;threadid=4796  
  
Revelations  
  
http://users.boardnation.com/~scapeartist/index.php?board=4;action=display;threadid=5646  
  
Target Practice  
  
http://users.boardnation.com/~scapeartist/index.php?board=4;action=display;threadid=6254  
  
This is my most ambitious story EVER. I put a lot into it, and I hope you all enjoy it as much as I had fun making it. It's very special to me, and I hope you can tell.  
  
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Reckoning  
  
Everyone else had said good-bye, and only the four of them remained. He watched as Tean ruffled Aeric's hair and lightly punched him on the arm with a "May the force be with you." Then his brother turned to Brennik and, in his usual dramatic way, tipped her backward over one knee before planting a loud, wet kiss directly on her mouth.   
  
Sethya hoped Tean was being careful; the half shirt she'd taken in deference to her injury showed off the angry red welt circling her waist, a souvenir of her "Girls Day Out". He was surprised when Brennik laughed and pushed his brother away. Pretending to be crestfallen, Tean waved and sauntered up the ramp.  
  
He began to follow his clown of a brother, when his name was called in her lyrical voice. "Hey, Sethya." He turned to see Brennik smiling at him, moisture in her eyes. "Don't come back with any more holes than you're supposed to have."  
  
He tried to remain distant, but something inside of him broke and despite his order to the contrary, a smile escaped. He couldn't hold it in check as unfamiliar warmth spread throughout his chest. "I'll see what I can do."  
  
A look of wonder assailed her features, and she stared openly at him, as if she was trying to memorize each facet of him. "Are you sure you have to leave now? You should recuperate some more."  
  
"I am healed, and I have contracts to honor."  
  
"What about the bounty?"  
  
He would normally tell her to mind her own business, he could handle it. Instead, he found himself reassuring her. "The people I work with make more money from my deliveries than from a simple bounty. As for the bounty hunters, they can be dealt with."   
  
Instinctively, he knew she wanted to remind him of the last time he "handled" the bounty hunters, but to her credit, she merely nodded with understanding. She lifted a hand towards him, but he would never know what her intentions had been.   
  
Abruptly she froze in mid-motion, horror and panic filling her eyes. Her feet disappeared, then her shins, her knees, her thighs. Slowly she faded before him, a warped version of his nightmare come to life, and all Sethya could do was watch as she was taken from him.  
  
"Dad," Aeric called over his comms, breathless and shaking. "Brennik just disappeared."  
  
"She's probably upset about the boys leaving. Go check the Terrace."  
  
"No, Dad. She was standing here talking to Sethya when she got all stiff and slowly vanished a dench at a time-- from the ground up."  
  
Violent, untranslatable cursing flew through the comms, filling the hanger and echoing off the walls. Sethya couldn't understand the words, but he wholeheartedly agreed with the sentiment.  
  
"Commander," Sethya interrupted, using Aeric's comms. "I think I can help. I know of this technology."  
  
"You and your brother meet me on Command."  
  
"Yes sir," he replied, instinctively reverting to Soldier Mode. Anger recoiled throughout him and he tried to harness that, shoving the consuming fear aside. Letting his emotions have free rein would only get her killed. He wasn't going to let that happen again.  
  
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Everyone was present except Pilot, and he watched the proceedings through the clamshell. It felt strange, giving away Peacekeeper information, but he ignored any misgivings for Brennik's sake and began. "Before I… departed… the Peacekeepers, my group had been briefed for an undercover detail to infiltrate a breakaway group known as Groelesh. They are mercenaries and consider themselves freedom fighters. They have a technology known as 'Placement Disrupters' that allow you to move an object short distances at a molecular level."  
  
"Short distances," D'Argo observed. "So she is nearby?"  
  
"Yes, probably on a ship. They couldn't have taken her to a planet; even that distance is too great."  
  
"What's to stop them from taking any of the rest of us?" Chiana asked.  
  
"I can handle that," Tean assured. "I know a way to block the transmission, maybe fool it if we wanted to send something back. If we overload a pulse chamber, it would explode upon reconstitution."  
  
"No!" barked Sethya and John.  
  
"We don't want to hurt Brennik," Crichton said. "Is there any way to trace where they've taken her?"  
  
Tean was already at one of the consoles working. "I'll see what I can do. Pilot, are you detecting any anomalies in this sector?"  
  
"No, but there is a small asteroid field nearby."  
  
"They are hiding in there," Sethya assured. "It's the perfect cover for them. Commander, they have no reason to take Brennik. They hate the Peacekeepers. If they think they want her, the Groelesh would do everything in their power to keep her out of Peacekeeper hands, just to spite them."  
  
"Everybody wants a taste of wormhole technology, Seth. Never underestimate someone's ability or determination to build a new weapon."  
  
"I have located a ship," Pilot interrupted.  
  
"Get 'em on the phone," instructed John.  
  
A few microts later an older, scarred, Sebacean male filled the viewscreen. D'Argo wasted no time with pleasantries. "I am Ka D'Argo, captain of Moya. You have taken one of my crewmembers. I demand her immediate return."  
  
"I'm sorry, Captain; your request cannot be fulfilled. We are on a recovery mission and have seized delinquent merchandise."  
  
"She's not property!" John yelled.  
  
"Officer Aeryn Sun, slave identification 54839256. She signed her rights to us twenty-three cycles ago. We have been very generous, but she has breached her contract and her return is…"  
  
"You moron!" John yelled. "Have you bothered to look at who you've taken? You've got my damn daughter and if you don't give her back I will come over there and get her! And trust me; you don't want me to pay you a visit."  
  
D'Argo and Chiana were earnestly shaking their heads [i]no[/i]. "You [i]really[/i] don't want that to happen," Chiana emphasized.  
  
"Letchner," Aeryn interrupted, hobbling into view for the first time.  
  
"Ahhhh, Officer Sun. So we do have the wrong prisoner. We will be willing to conduct an even trade, you for your daughter."  
  
"You bastard!" John exclaimed.  
  
"It was you this whole time, wasn't it?" Aeryn asked.  
  
"You entered into a lifelong blood oath, Officer Sun, and then you defected."  
  
"I kept my oath of secrecy."  
  
"We made sure you did. It took us a while to find you and arrange for your placement, but as you can see, we are very diligent. You were lucky, Aeryn." John growled at the familiarity, but was ignored. "I spared your life, and I even let you retain your son. As you know, most others are not so fortunate."  
  
"Yes, I was lucky to have you for a friend, wasn't I?" Aeryn asked sarcastically.  
  
"I don't give a damn about your blood oaths or your contracts. You're not getting my wife, and if you don't return my daughter- I'm going to come get her. So get your ass in gear, flip the switch on your etch-a-sketch, and send her back!"  
  
"That is not possible."  
  
"Then get the appetizers ready pal, 'cause you're having dinner guests tonight."  
  
Pilot ended the transmission and everyone looked at each other. "So," Crichton asked D'Argo, "got a plan?"  
  
"Take Lo'Laan, disable their ship, dock, retrieve Brennik, leave."  
  
"Simple, straightforward, and destined to fail. I'm in." John turned to Aeryn. "What is this guy's next move?"  
  
"I don't know. I only remember his face and name. I bluffed the rest."  
  
"Well, for once it's not me the creepy bad guys are after. Tean, how're you comin' on that Disruptor disruptor?"  
  
"Almost finished… there. They will not be able to take anyone else, as long as they're on Moya."  
  
"We'll have to take out that toy," Chiana observed. "I don't want to be trapped on Moya from now on. No offense Pilot."  
  
"None taken."  
  
"Agreed. Rescue Brennik, destroy disruptor," D'Argo clarified.  
  
"Fine," John said. "Seth and I will get Brennik. Chiana and D'Ago, you go for the hardware."  
  
"I'm going too," Aeryn insisted.  
  
"Like hell you are, you're not getting anywhere near that madman." When Aeryn's eyes narrowed to slits, the nervousness emanating from Chiana and D'Argo was palpable. "Besides," clarified John, clearing his throat, "we need someone to stay here and watch Aeric and Tean."  
  
"I'm not helpless," Tean mumbled, but at the look on John's face began backpedaling. "But, I'm going to be busy with adjustments. Also, I might be able to jam a few of their frequencies, but I'll need someone to watch my back."  
  
"Please, Aeryn," John begged. "Just this once. It's you he wants, and I don't want to walk in and hand you to him." He had slowly walked to her, lacing her fingers with his before placing his forehead gently against hers. "Besides, you'll slow us down. We'll be able to get in and out a lot faster without having to worry about your ankle. I'll make it up to you. I promise. Please." The room collectively held their breath, waiting for her answer.  
  
"You'd better hurry," she finally relented, but everyone knew the only thing stopping her from going after her daughter was her injury.   
  
Relieved, he kissed her quickly before following D'Argo, Chiana and Sethya out of command to Lo'La.  
  
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"Their ship consists of three tiers," Sethya briefed them as D'Argo piloted Lo'La away from Moya. "The top is Command and quarters. The middle is their docking bay and where they house their fleet of prowlers. The bottom is Maintenance, Medical and the Displacement Chamber. They have a crew of roughly thirty, twenty of which are soldiers."  
  
"Twenty Aeryns? We're screwed," John said.  
  
"Yeah, we are. Here come two of them now," Chiana announced.  
  
D'Argo spit on the controls as John climbed into the co-pilot seat. "After twenty cycles, you'd think we'd come up with a better way of doing this," John complained, placing his hands on the slime and taking over piloting duties.  
  
"It works. Now quit complaining and hold still," D'Argo said from behind the targeting visor.  
  
Something was terribly wrong. The two prowlers flew at them firing, but their pilots were either inept, or untrained. D'Argo easily compensated for their evasive maneuvers and in five microts, both ships had been disabled.  
  
"Did anybody else think that was too easy! That was too easy, don't ya think? Where are the other eighteen?" Chiana asked nervously.  
  
The question hung in the air, accentuating the silence as the four of them watched their prey emerge from the asteroids on the viewer before them. To John, it looked liked a giant yellow Twinkie. "Where's the cream filling?" he asked no-one in particular.  
  
Used to being ignored, he was surprised when Chiana smacked her lips. "Hezmana, but those were good."  
  
"Rygel stuffed himself on them," D'Argo reminisced.  
  
"Rygel stuffed himself on everything," John reminded them.  
  
"Yeah, but you weren't there when he brought all fifty of them back up on the Secret Service guy's shoes," Chiana chuckled.  
  
John grimaced at the visual, but his attention was quickly diverted as D'Argo docked Lo'La in the ship's hanger.  
  
"This is too easy," Chiana murmured. "It never goes easy for us. We never should have been able to land like that."  
  
"Something is definitely wrong," Sethya agreed.  
  
"Well, all we can do is go with the plan, like we always do. It's always a trap. Nothing changes," John observed.  
  
Chiana and D'Argo, used to this as the normal mode of operations, nodded. Sethya, wondering what kind of frelled up group he had managed to throw in with, agreed more reluctantly.  
  
----------------------------------  
  
When the ramp to Lo'La lowered, D'Argo and Chiana stood on one side of the door, John and Sethya on the other. "How many are there?" John asked.  
  
D'Argo peeked out, ducking pulse blasts that flew over his head, hitting the wall opposite the door. "Eight," he answered.  
  
"That's it? Where are the other ten?" John shouted above the noise of weapon fire.  
  
"They probably felt two to one was pretty good odds," Sethya answered dryly.  
  
"The odds are never this good," Chiana declared. "Too easy."  
  
"I'm sure they'll be coming out of the woodwork once we get past these guys. Let's get this over with," John hollered.  
  
"Cover me!" Sethya called. Before anyone could stop him, he charged past Crichton and down the ramp with a pulse pistol in each hand, firing with precision as he ran.  
  
D'Argo with his Qualta Blade and John with Winnona fired from the doorway, trying to divert the attention from the charging commando. The battle lasted only a hundred microts before all eight soldiers lay on the ground, and an eerie silence descended on the docking bay.  
  
"Ten down," Sethya said coldly as he holstered his left pistol. The click of the weapon returning home echoed throughout the bay.  
  
"What the HELL were you thinking?!" John fumed.  
  
"I thought you wanted results."  
  
"Keep your kamikaze tactics for when you're alone; we can't afford to lose anybody right now," John ordered. "Now, grab a uniform and start changing."  
  
---------------------------------------------  
  
His mom was grumbling. He'd never heard her do that before and it made him a little nervous. This whole frelling situation made him nervous. Always, she was the patient one, bearing their afflictions in silence, knowing that any other reaction would make the situation worse. But now, as she hobbled around command following Tean's instructions, he heard a definite mumbling. "…frelling useless broken ankle…" drifted over to him and he decided to stay out of her way. Ever since returning to Moya, she'd been radically unpredictable, and in her mood, he had no idea what she would do next.  
  
"Officer Sun," a concerned voice interrupted her ranting.  
  
"Yes, Pilot?"  
  
"I have detected intruders aboard, eleven to be precise. They are en route to Command."  
  
"Frell!" she glared at Tean accusingly. "I thought you fixed it."  
  
"I said they couldn't take anyone." He threw up his hands defensively. "Sending someone over is a frelling new feature, they couldn't do that before."  
  
"Well, we're going to have to find a way to hold them off until the others return."  
  
"Mom," Aeric said pointing up, "through the vents." One eyebrow raised, telling him she wanted to know where he'd gotten the idea, but now was not the time to explain.  
  
Aeric and Tean pushed a table under the access shaft, and Tean helped Aeryn onto the table before climbing on himself. "Let me go first," Aeric said and Tean boosted him high enough for the boy to push the grate aside and lift himself into the vent. Leaning out as far as he dared, he reached for his mother, who was being lifted by Tean.  
  
The man briefly worried about the location of his hand, knowing that if Crichton were to find out he'd had a handful of Aeryn's eema, that hand could possibly be crushed, but he pushed his concerns aside. This was different. Right? Between Tean pushing, Aeryn lifting herself, and Aeric pulling, she was in the vent beside her son quickly.  
  
Footsteps could be heard pounding closer as Tean jumped, barely grabbing hold of the edge. Aeric and Aeryn grabbed his wrists and began to pull, but the door to Command opened before they had lifted Tean completely inside. The man's legs still hung from the ceiling, but all three froze in terror, hoping that if they were silent enough the intruders would not look up.  
  
The cadence of marching footsteps purposely stomping became louder as three rows of three soldiers emerged, with one trailing behind. Letchner followed his small army into the room and Aeryn, suddenly hit with a wave of violent anger, forced herself to stay in place quietly hiding. She swore to herself that before this was over, she was going to make sure that man paid for twenty years of humiliation and suffering. This was the man who had ripped away her past, her personality, her family and friends. This one man had taken everything away from her because she'd rejected him.  
  
She remembered now. She was going to make sure he would never forget.  
  
Slowly, cautiously, silently, they inched Tean higher and higher until he was able to lift his legs into the small space they were cramped into. All three breathed a collective grateful sigh, stopping for a moment to let themselves calm down.  
  
Aeric motioned for the two adults to follow him and he began to lead them through the small tunnel, hoping he could remember his way through the dark maze. When they had traveled far enough to not be heard, he heard his mother behind him ask the question he'd hoped to avoid.  
  
"Do I even want to know how you know your way through here?"  
  
"No," was his simple response. He refused to turn and meet his mother's gaze, but he heard the implied "later" in the pregnant silence. [i]I tried Dad. Sorry[/i].  
  
---------------------------------  
  
Sethya had forgotten how restricting the black helmets could be, and he was beginning to feel a touch claustrophobic. But the disguise had enabled them to get close enough for him to Pantak Jab two techs so far, so he didn't dare remove it. He and John were systematically checking all doors through the lone corridor.  
  
He was concerned. So far, there was no sign of any more soldiers. He found himself agreeing with Chiana. This was too easy.  
  
The two men quickly developed a system. One would throw the door open and jump out of the way, while the other covered with potential firepower. Door after door, they slowly made their way down the corridor. Finally, at the last entrance, John jumped out of the way to reveal a Medical facility. A quick scan showed the room empty, and Sethya was beginning to think they would have to search the upper tier, when a small movement caught his eye.  
  
In a far corner, strapped to a cage-like metal table lay Brennik, apparently unconscious. A visceral growl emanated from John, surprising Sethya with its ferocity. John was at Brennik's side in half a microt, tearing at the restraints. He'd lost all reason, and in his haste he was clumsy with the fasteners.  
  
In all the time he'd spent with Crichton, he'd never seen him lose control like this, and he found it frightening. He only had a moment to wonder what had set him off (Brennik appeared to be unhurt) when the man, in his frustration, aimed his pulse pistol at the fasteners.  
  
"Wait!" Sethya cried, throwing himself over the woman. "We can do this. Hold on a microt." He waited a moment, trying to picture John's face behind the dark helmet. What was going on in the older man's mind? Finally, the weapon lowered slightly.  
  
"Hurry up."  
  
Sethya pushed various buttons and levers on the side of the table, getting frustrated himself. About to resort to his own pulse pistol, he finally found the right combination and the metal straps fell away from her body with a light click. He wanted to reach for her, but John beat him to it.  
  
The older man lifted his daughter into his arms, but before he could take two steps, the seemingly unconscious woman began to fight. As John struggled to restrain but not hurt her, she managed to elbow her father in the gut and was dropped to the floor.  
  
She jumped to her feet and turned on Sethya. "Stop it, Brennik, you're going to hurt yourself." To his shock, she kicked him in the stomach with so much force, not only did he lose all ability to breathe, but he found himself flying to the floor. "I see you've been training," he wheezed from the ground, clutching his stomach in pain. "Good."  
  
She turned back to her father, ready to continue the fight, only to find he'd taken off his helmet. Finally, recognition set in. "Dad!" she cried and threw herself into his arms. "I knew you'd come for me."  
  
Her bear hug was almost as damaging as a hit would have been, but John braced himself and spared a moment to let the feel of her arms remind him of where he was, and who he was with.  
  
"Yeah, good to see you too," Sethya said sarcastically as he picked himself off the floor, removing his helmet. He was hit by a wall that must have been her body and found himself stumbling backwards. This woman hugged too much. They needed to get moving and she was wasting time. His arms around her waist had nothing to do with it. She pulled far enough back to look him in the eye.  
  
"I thought you had contracts to honor."  
  
"I do, and you're making me late," he accused. He never intended to kiss her, but the instant the quick touch was over, he realized he'd made a serious mistake. That fleeting connection was going to haunt him. So was the look on her father's face. Grabbing her hand, he began following John out of the room and nearly ran into the man's back when he stopped abruptly.  
  
A med tech had entered the room and stared at them in shock. John lunged for the woman, but before she was tackled, she managed to hit a large red button on a control panel near the door. As she dropped from the Pantak Jab, a piercing alarm blasted from a central sound system. The lights began flashing an annoying red, yellow, red, yellow and every door slammed shut. The sharp snap of countless synchronized locks clicking into place at the same time momentarily drowned out the loud call to arms.  
  
"Frell." At least all three of them could agree on something.  
  
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Chiana and D'Argo silently searched room after room of their corridor, looking for the device described to them by Sethya. D'Argo had his Qualta Blade drawn and ready, Chiana followed with a pulse rifle that was almost as big as she was slung over her shoulder. Her long grey coat floated out behind her as she darted from entrance to entrance, silent and graceful.  
  
They had immobilized two techs, but had encountered no further resistance. The ship felt deserted, and Chiana had a bad feeling about the ease of their movements. It was almost as if the Groelesh didn't care that a group of invaders were running around free on their ship. What didn't the ragtag group know?  
  
After the tenth door, they found themselves in a large room filled with ammunition and weapons. "The armory," D'Argo declared.  
  
Chiana's eyes grew wide. "Aeryn would love this place!" She began stowing items into her coat, specifically made for procuring. D'Argo gave her a reproving look. "Hey, these will come in handy," she defended herself. "Besides, Aeryn would kill for one of those Tralaxian hand darts. C'mon, D'Argo, these people owe her… and us. Her life wasn't the only one ripped apart when they stole her." She selected as many items as she could carry, several intended as gifts for her friend. As a professional thief, the number of items she was able to store was impressive.  
  
"Chiana, let's go!" D'Argo urged impatiently.  
  
"Just one more," she said, eyeing a small silver ball hanging on a chain from a hook. She jumped to reach it but missed. "D'Argo, give me a boost." Before D'Argo could reach her, she jumped one last time. Her fingers grasped the ball and as she landed, the chain ripped the hook from the wall.  
  
A loud, piercing alarm screeched through a central sound system. The lights began flashing an annoying red, yellow, red, yellow and a loud bang shouted the slamming of every door they'd left open in their search. Countless locks activated simultaneously.  
  
D'Argo glared at her accusingly. She stared at the device in her hand. "Dren!"  
  
---------------------------- 


	2. Chapter 2

Aeryn ignored the throbbing pain in her ankle as they crawled through the vents. If she could drag a man through the desert with a broken leg, she could handle this.  
  
John would be angry that she'd have to start the healing process all over again. Under the circumstances, she didn't know what she could do differently. She was glad she'd stayed behind. Aeric would have been left under the protection of Tean. He was a nice boy, but he was a tech, not a soldier.  
  
Aeric stopped over a grate and signaled to them for help to lift it. Tean dropped into the room first, then Aeric. Aeryn gritted her teeth and jumped into Tean's outstretched arms. Surveying her surroundings, she found herself in Sethya's quarters. She wondered why Aeric had chosen to bring them here. Sethya had probably removed all his possessions. He was supposed to have left arns ago, and he had made it clear he did not intend to return.  
  
Aeric crawled under the bed until only his legs could be seen. A short rectangular box flew across the floor, and Aeric backed out. Curious, Aeryn hobbled to where the box lay. On the lid was the name Brennik.  
  
Unceremoniously, Aeric pulled open the lid to reveal two gleaming, brand new black pulse pistols. They were sleek, beautiful, and Aeryn itched to hold one in her hand, to feel the strength and power of the new model.  
  
Aeric threw one to Tean, who tucked it in his belt quickly, and kept the second one for himself. Now all three were armed. She was scared for her son. The boy had no proper training. That was going to change the microt this was over and these bastards were chased back to where they belonged.  
  
"Officer Sun," Pilot called over the comms. "The intruders have separated into five groups. One has stayed on command; the others are on tiers three, seven, nine, and twelve."  
  
"Acknowledged. Thank you, Pilot. Maintain comms silence until further notice."  
  
"Understood." When Pilot broke off his transmission, Aeryn suddenly felt very isolated, until she looked down to see the red, white and blue DRD John seemed to love so much.  
  
"1812," she said, awkwardly kneeling down to meet its eyestalks. She felt foolish, but it worked for Crichton, and right now she was desperate. "Talk to your friends. Get them to give the intruders trouble. Shoot them, trip them, I don't care. Can you do that?"  
  
The little machine beeped twice, flashing its eyes and sped away. Aeryn looked up to see Tean watching her with one eyebrow raised.  
  
"You were just talking to a DRD."  
  
"It's John's. It can help us," was the only explanation she was willing to give. She didn't care what the young tech thought of her.  
  
"What's our next move?" he asked.  
  
"Take out the intruders, one group at a time. They made a mistake in splitting up," she responded confidently, motioning for the two young men to follow her from the room.  
  
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D'Argo had to admit to himself, one of Chiana's more endearing qualities was that you were never locked into a room against your will for very long. The secured door had been useless under her experienced hands and it was only a matter of microts before they ducked their heads into the corridor. They expected to find the hallway teaming with armored soldiers bearing down on them, but only found the passageway eerily deserted.  
  
Together they slinked from the room, weapons drawn, to continue their search for the disruptor. They were met by three shiny black DRD's guarding the last entrance in the passageway.  
  
"That must be it," D'Argo whispered. Chiana nodded her agreement and the two began to approach the harmless looking guards.  
  
Three tiny cannons emerged and pulse blasts ricocheted off the walls, missing D'Argo and Chiana by mere denches. Dropping to the floor to get under the rain of fire, Chiana fired two shots that bounced off the casing of the front attacker and returned to her, nearly ripping into her side. Luckily, she'd managed to roll out of the path of the blasts as it tore past her, singeing her hair.  
  
D'Argo began to scoot his way forward on his stomach, Qualta Blade held in front of him, offering a minor shield as he tried to reach the machines. "That room is definitely it," he said.  
  
"Oh, ya think?" the Nebari asked sarcastically. The lights cut, leaving them in complete darkness, with only the illumination of the DRD eyestalks and pulse fire to guide their way. "It just gets better and better," Chiana grumbled.  
  
-----------------------------------------  
  
Brennik was proud of herself. It had only taken twenty microts for her to pick the lock. She was getting faster, even though it had been five cycles since she'd had need of the skill. Sethya patted her shoulder and she purposely refused to look at her father. He had no idea she'd been involved in the "Painting the School Scandal," but she had a feeling he was going to find out. Unless, of course, she could convince him she'd simply been spending too much time with Chiana. It's not like he could ground her or anything.  
  
The hall was eerily deserted, and cautiously the three snuck in to the passageway. The door slammed shut behind them, the lock refastening with a loud [i]snap[/i].  
  
"That can't be good," John said nervously.  
  
A low visceral growl rushed at them from their left, and they turned to find a large, salivating fish, seemingly swimming through the air, flying straight towards them. This fish had iridescent purple eyes, and its body flashed the same red, yellow as the lights in the ship, only with opposite timing.  
  
"Where did that come from?" Brennik shouted, ducking as it passed over her head. Its teeth viciously snapped shut where her head had been.  
  
Sethya aimed and fired. Exploding bits of flesh and red blood splattered them, the metal floor and the walls. As the blood followed the path of gravity, artistic design decorated the stark grey walls.  
  
Her father began leading the way down the hallway, when two distinct growls could be heard rushing at them. Spinning around, Sethya fired once, Brennik three times, but both fish joined their predecessor as wall hangings.  
  
  
  
"You're right," Brennik said conversationally. "Moving targets are different."  
  
"You did well, for your first time," Sethya encouraged.  
  
"I see what you mean about the..."  
  
Three growling, salivating fish, identical to the previous three, appeared through the wall behind them, rushing at them with speed.  
  
"There's a pattern here people!" John called, grabbing fistfuls of Seth's and Brennik's shirts, pushing them ahead of him towards their goal. "RUN!"  
  
---------------------------------  
  
She had tried to make the shot from inside the vent, but the angle was all wrong and now she was forced to these extreme measures. Tean had turned red and sputtered when she'd told him to hold onto her legs, but finally agreed when she'd promised not to tell Crichton. So, now she slowly, quietly descended upside down from the shaft in the ceiling. Blood rushed to her head, blurring her vision, but she kept her targets in sight, hanging down through the gap. When Tean finally steadied her, she fired twice. She missed her first shot, alerting the soldiers to her presence, and one managed to return a blast before she hit them both.  
  
She now had a smoldering hole in the side of her shirt where the enemy pulse blast had passed through, but it had missed her body and she was grateful she was unharmed.  
  
"Officer Sun," Pilot unexpectedly spoke over the comms. Something had to be seriously wrong for him to break silence.  
  
"Yes, Pilot," she answered, still upside down.  
  
"The DRD's have sealed one team into an inner wall, and another team has been disabled and disarmed."  
  
"That's great, Pilot..."  
  
"The team left on command has overridden controls and will have full control over Moya in approximately 500 microts."  
  
"On my way, Pilot." Aeryn signaled for Tean to pull her up and the three began the journey to Command.  
  
-----------------------------  
  
D'Argo was beginning to feel like Luke Skywalker, trying to shield himself from the pulse blasts with his Qualta blade. He'd managed to scoot forward a few more denches when he heard Chiana call his name from behind. "Hey, D'Argo, wait a minute. I have an idea." He heard her rustling around in her coat. "I told you this would come in handy. Keep your head down." In the soft illumination of the pulse fire exploding around them, he saw her lob a small object over her head, and then he heard a [i]thunk[/i] sound in the midst of the DRD's.  
  
"What was that?"  
  
"Just wait, this'll be good. Brace yourself."  
  
He had counted to three mippippippi when a thunderous BOOM shook the floor and walls of the hallway they were crouched in. A massive blue wave of energy picked him and Chiana off the floor and threw them backwards, knocking the air from them.  
  
The three DRD's gurgled despairingly, as if they were drowning, before their eyestalks grew dim and then black. The hall was left in oppressive silent darkness. Even the resounding alarm had stilled.  
  
"WHAT was THAT?" D'Argo wheezed.  
  
"Aeryn would be so proud," Chiana answered with a smile in her voice. "C'mon, we're almost there."  
  
Together, they crawled on their hands and knees until they felt their mechanical attackers beneath them. Feeling with her hands, Chiana found the door and quickly picked the lock. The lack of sight had no effect on her speed, and within microts the two intruders, still on their knees, opened the door to find a large, well lit room with a wide, short, platform in the center.  
  
There was also a woman holding a pulse pistol directly to Chiana's forehead. "Don't move," the woman ordered.  
  
Chiana closed her eyes in exasperation. "I really should have seen this coming."  
  
--------------------------------  
  
"This is like a really sick version of space invaders!" John yelled as he fired off another shot, sending more blood, guts, and flesh splattering them and walls. Brennik, kneeling beside her father, added another layer of goo as she shot another attacker. Sethya was perched on a ladder behind them, trying to override the computerized lock keeping the escape hatch to the next level beyond their reach. "What's taking so long?"  
  
"Look, I'm not the tech. Just give me a microt!"  
  
By mutual agreement, both Brennik and her father tried to kill the monsters at the last possible moment, delaying the multiplication process. Unfortunately, it also had the effect of being close enough to be sprayed every time the fish exploded. They were nearly covered in thick red blood, bits of flesh clinging here and there.  
  
Brennik wiped her eyes clear, purposely flinging a handful at Sethya. "My life was never this gross on the planet."  
  
"Didn't I say something about not liking the answers? I think I did." John fired another shot, cringing with the blast of guts. "Sethman, hurry up!"  
  
Brennik shot twice, both direct hits. "Well, it's great practice," Sethya said pragmatically. "She's getting better."  
  
"I will never be able to eat a decent trout again!" John complained, firing as snarling, drooling fish attacked.  
  
The hall was bathed in red, the floor a thick pool of blood. "You know, Dad," Brennik said, hitting a tailfin and watching the explosion, "you always talked about fishing with Grandpa, and how you wanted to take me someday."  
  
"This wasn't what I had in mind…"  
  
"Got it!" Sethya yelled triumphantly, dropping from the ladder and unholstering his weapon to help shoot.  
  
"Brennik, you first!" John yelled.  
  
She turned so quickly to comply, she slipped on the slick floor and landed on her face. Her pistol flew from her hand, lost in the pool of blood. Sethya, shooting with one hand, assisted her to her feet with the other.  
  
She was now unrecognizable, covered in a layer of slick, wet, red blood dripping from her nose and hair. Only the whites of her eyes could be seen and a red mist flew from her mouth as she spewed the offending liquid. She shook any excess from her hands and reached for the ladder. Killing three more fish with the pistol in his right hand, Sethya kept his left hand on her side to make sure she didn't slip off the metal rungs.  
  
Finally, she was standing in the maintenance bay on the tier above them. Looking around, she found a small device hanging on a nearby wall. It was a green canister with a small yellow hose and what appeared to be a trigger device. There was a sign above it, but she couldn't read the language. At the moment, she didn't care. She snatched it off the wall and squished back to the hole in the floor she just emerged from as she pulled a pin from the trigger.  
  
Dropping onto her stomach, she lowered herself face first into the opening, leaving room for the men to climb up the ladder. Fighting dizzyness, she aimed the yellow hose and briefly fired, trying to cover Sethya's retreat up the ladder.  
  
A thick streaming cloud of white smoke shot forward, enveloping the closest fish, freezing it mid-air before it fell to the floor in a loud splash. All three sets of eyes watched the descent in amazement. She was quickly shaken from her reverie with the snarling of the ten remaining fish rushing at them.   
  
One by one, she blasted them with cold smoke; one by one they fell motionless to the floor. At last, John and Sethya stood in a pool of blood, surrounded by eleven flashing, man eating, razor toothed puffers.  
  
Both turned to Brennik, still hanging from the ceiling. "Good job," her father stated simply.  
  
"You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on," Sethya said, just as a large drop of fish guts fell from her stomach and splashed to the floor.  
  
One of the fish surged into the air, screaming towards the two men. "Get up here!" Brennik yelled, spraying another round of paralyzing smoke into the hall. The men needed no further encouragement and scrambled quickly to the upper tier.  
  
Sethya hauled Brennik, who was still firing, out of the hole as John slammed the hatch shut and sealed it. All three momentarily lay on the floor of the maintenance bay, trying to catch their breath. Brennik pulled off her right boot, creating a slight sucking sound as her foot emerged. Tipping it upside down, blood poured from it like a faucet.  
  
"Twenty-seven cycles in the Uncharted Territories. Twenty-seven! And the only decent fishing hole is in a frelling ship!"* John mumbled as he picked fish bits from his ear.  
  
----------------------------  
  
Chiana felt the cold metal of the pulse pistol against her forehead and wanted to kick herself. She'd learned many cycles ago to always be leery about what was behind the door. D'Argo was too close to tongue this trelk. Frell.  
  
The woman's hand was shaking, and Chiana fervently hoped the tech didn't pull the trigger by accident. The woman obviously had no idea what to do next, and all three waited in the doorway, waiting for her to make a decision.  
  
"Both of you, very slowly move forward," they were instructed.  
  
Side by side, still on their knees, they shuffled into the room. Chiana felt silly and she could tell D'Argo was very unhappy, but as long as that pulse pistol had contact with her head, she'd do what she was told. When their boots finally cleared the entrance, the door slid shut.  
  
Out of the corner of her eye, she took survey of the room. The left wall was one massive control panel. Hanging from the ceiling, above the centered platform, was a large silver ball. The rest of the room was bare.  
  
"Now drop your weapons." D'Argo's Qualta Blade and Chiana's pulse rifle hit the floor simultaneously. The tech kicked them across the room, away from the left wall. "Lay down on your stomachs, hands out."  
  
Obediently, they lowered themselves to the floor. Chiana, ever the opportunist, managed to pull an object from her coat, hiding it in the palm of her hand as she splayed them out in from of her.  
  
An alarm sounded from the control panel and, keeping the pistol aimed at her prisoners, the tech diverted her attention for a microt to look at the corresponding flashing light. Chiana snapped a seal off the small cylindrical object with the hand it was hiding in and tossed it at her captor's feet.  
  
The tech turned back around in time to see the object land at her feet. Bending over, she plucked it into her fingers, bringing it to her face to study more closely. A small pop preceded a tiny stream of smoke and then a couple of sparks fizzled from one of the broken ends.  
  
"That's the best you could do?" D'Argo asked incredulously, more embarrassed then angry.  
  
The tech's puzzled look morphed into horror of recognition and a resounding BANG drowned out any response Chiana might have returned with. They found themselves hit with a massive wave of yellow energy. They began lifting off the floor, and the three were now uncontrollably floating through the air.  
  
"What the HEZMANA were you thinking?" D'Argo roared as he dodged a pulse blast from a now terrified technician.  
  
"It was all I could grab in the time I had," Chiana defended herself as she swam through the air to their weapons, which were still lying on the floor across the room. "I didn't know what it did." A pulse blast whizzed past her head. "Will you do something about that tralk?"  
  
D'Argo's tongue lashed out, hitting the woman on the neck and rendering her unconscious. He smacked his tongue off the roof of his mouth distastefully. "That was foul. She needed to bathe."  
  
"Couldn't have been as bad as Grandma," Chiana said conversationally as they watched the comatose woman float to the ceiling, bobbing against the metal rafters.   
  
D'Argo shook his head. "Hurry up, we're running late."  
  
Chiana swam to the weapons, retrieved her rifle, and aimed at the large silver ball. Her one shot ricocheted, returning directly to her. She barely swam out of the way in time to save her leg. "Force field," she said. "Always a frelling force field." She began rifling in her coat again.  
  
"NO!" D'Argo barked at her. He continued more softly, yet firmly when she stopped to look at him. "We don't know what the hezmana you have in there, and we don't have time to sort through and find the stuff we recognize."  
  
"Well," she said swimming to him, "what's YOUR great plan?" He pointed to the left wall that was blinking and beeping with its myriad of controls. "Fine. But it's not as fun."  
  
Together, they breaststroked to a keypad in the center off the wall. D'Argo began pushing buttons, but a request for the key flashed on the screen with an arrow pointing to a circular hole beside the console. D'Argo slammed his fist against the wall in frustration.  
  
"Wait a minute," Chiana said excitedly, pulling from a front pocket the small silver ball and chain she'd been so determined to acquire. "Try this."  
  
D'Argo took the pendant from her doubtfully and slid it into the indicated slot. It was a perfect fit. "Special Security access code granted," a melodious voice filled the room.  
  
Chiana beamed triumphantly. "See, I told you…"  
  
"Self destruct sequence activated. Total structural meltdown in 800 microts, 799, 798…"  
  
"Does she mean the ship or the machine?" Chiana asked nervously.  
  
"I suggest we do not wait to find out. Let's go."  
  
"At least it worked," Chiana mumbled. As D'Argo retrieved his Qualta Blade from the floor, she tripped the door activator and together they swam through the hall, over the dead DRD's, to the hatch that would lead them to maintenance on the tier above them.  
  
------------------------------  
  
The good news was that her ankle was no longer throbbing, and the shooting pains that had extended from her heel to her hip had ceased. The bad news was that she couldn't feel it at all. In fact, her entire leg could be missing and she wouldn't be able to tell the difference. So now she found herself riding on Tean's back as he and Aeric ran through the corridors quickly and quietly to Command. She had to give the boy credit; he carried her as though she were weightless. He wasn't even breathing hard.  
  
Although Aeric led the way, checking for possible ambush, she kept her weapon ready. If she couldn't carry herself, she would at least protect the eema of the person who could. Finally, they reached the entrance they wanted.  
  
Climbing off Tean's back, she began to hobble in front of him as he placed a black helmet over his head. He had changed into a uniform of one of the fallen Groelesh and with the helmet in place, he was unrecognizable. "Are you sure this is what you want to do? John will be angry."  
  
"They're taking too long. This is the only way to keep these idiots from gutting Moya. I'll take full responsibility. Just stick with the plan."   
  
Reluctantly, she handed her pistol to Aeric. "Stay out of sight, protect Pilot at all costs."  
  
"The Plan, The Plan… The Plan never works," Tean mumbled as he scooped Aeryn into his arms. She relaxed, feigning unconsciousness, and he charged into Command as if he belonged. "I've got Officer Sun," he barked in his long unused military voice. "The others escaped. Request permission to retrieve them. They killed my partner."  
  
"Request denied, but good job," Letchner praised. Two more soldiers entered the room, bringing the total of invaders to five. "We're just about ready. Go stand over there." He gestured to an empty space in the center of the room, and Tean followed the direction. He was joined by the other soldiers and he watched as the captain pushed a series of controls before joining them.  
  
An odd tingling developed in his toes, spreading upward to his ankles, knees, thighs. He couldn't move and he felt himself slowly disappearing. [i]Here we go[/i] he thought before vaporization took his ability to think.  
  
----------------------------  
  
The three of them lay on the floor near the hatch, small puddles of sticky red blood forming beneath them. A melodious voice broke over an unseen sound system. "Special Security access code granted. Self destruct sequence activated. Total structural meltdown will occur in 800 microts, 799, 798 797…"  
  
"That would be D'Argo and Chiana. Seth, get Brennik out of here. Let Aeryn know we're all right and on our way."  
  
"Yes sir," the man responded, assisting Brennik to her feet. They tried running to the nearest prowler, but after they landed on their faces they realized the tread on their boots were now rendered useless. Arms around each other, they carefully walked to their intended craft, leaving two sets of red footprints behind them.  
  
Sethya climbed in first, then turned to assist Brennik. He ignored the wet squishing sound when they sat, and he threw on the oculars before powering up the machine. It had been a long time since he'd had the pleasure of holding one of these beauties in his hands and he intended to enjoy every moment of it.  
  
"Are you restrained?" he asked and when he heard the *click* of her restraining harness, he promptly forgot her presence. He roared the prowler through the hanger at one quarter speed above optimal and, as soon as he'd cleared the space ship, he threw her into a barrel roll.  
  
Speed. Everyone spouted the traditional mantra of teamwork as the motivation behind the greatness of the prowler crews. To Sethya, the adrenaline rush was the speed, the split microt timing, the dance with death.  
  
"Show off," he heard Brennik accuse from behind him, and he couldn't stop himself from laughing. He knew he was smiling and he was glad Brennik was behind him and couldn't see.  
  
"Aw Princess," he said in a rare moment of playfulness, "it's nothing you're not capable of."  
  
"Does that mean you'll show me?" His happiness diminished slightly.   
  
"I won't be around long enough," he reminded her reluctantly. He'd love to show her how to fly a prowler. "I'm sure there's nothing your mother couldn't show you."  
  
"If she remembers," she mumbled under her breath. She saw a prowler appear on her sensors. "Maybe it's dad," she guessed.  
  
The prowler fired and Seth rolled their craft, and dropped, getting under the hostile force. "Maybe not," he observed.  
  
--------------------------------------------------  
  
"Crichton." He thought he heard Chiana call him, but when he looked around he couldn't see her. He'd been standing next to Lo'Laa, waiting for his friends, ready to cover their escape if need be. "Hey, old man, up here." He turned around and looked up to see Chiana and D'Argo floating above him.  
  
For three full microts they all simply stared at each other in shock. John was covered in blood, his hair matted and sticking out in all directions. Bits of fish flesh and guts were still clinging to his clothes and a long trail of red footprints extended behind him. D'Argo and Chiana bobbed above him as they "treaded air".  
  
"You smell like dren," D'Argo finally greeted him.  
  
"Hey, at least I didn't turn into a carnival prize. Is that reversible?"  
  
D'Argo shot Chiana an accusing glare. "It had better be."  
  
"Can we just get out of here?" Chiana asked, swimming towards Lo'Laa's entrance.  
  
They had just gotten inside and were about to close the door when they heard Pilot contacting them.  
  
"Hey, Pilot! Good to hear from you," John answered.  
  
"I have been trying to comm you…"  
  
"Yeah, well, we were a little tied up. We're on our way back now."  
  
"Moya was invaded by a group of the Groelesh soldiers. Letchner has taken Aeryn and they are in the process of displacing themselves to your location."  
  
Without further comment, John grabbed a fistful of Chiana's coat in one hand, a fistful of D'Argo's robes in the other, and ran at his top speed out of Lo'Laa and toward the displacement room, trying to ignore the singsong voice counting above them. "588, 587, 586…"  
  
---------------------------------  
  
Brennik watched the scene unfold before her in amazement. Never before had she seen piloting at such a level. She had never been in combat either, and the roller coaster of a ride left her confused and disoriented. To keep herself grounded, she concentrated on Sethya and the very intricate, and seemingly delicate, moves he was pulling from the prowler.  
  
Up, over, down, roll… interspersed with the occasional sound of weapon fire. At one point they seemingly came to an instant stop, the other prowler shooting ahead of them before they opened fire on the enemy craft. She saw it hit and then disappear from view.  
  
She was just about to congratulate Sethya on a job well done when a jarring blast threw her hard against her restraining harness.  
  
"Princess?" Sethya asked distractedly.  
  
"I'm fine," she assured before settling back in her seat quietly. She was out of her league and didn't want to do anything to distract this man from his purpose.  
  
She didn't know how long the two ships battled. Together they danced through space, each trying to gain the upper hand. Finally, abruptly, she heard an explosion and a yellow ball of fire burned brightly before them.  
  
They flew in silence for several microts until she saw him relax slightly. "You're good at that," she said.  
  
"I know," he responded unemotionally, still watching the ball of fire.  
  
"I meant the flying."  
  
He paused. "I didn't."  
  
The last of the flames died in the void of space and they were surrounded in darkness. All words were gone. She had no idea what to say, so she said nothing. Awkwardly, she wrapped her bloody arms around the back of his seat, around his shoulders. She expected him to push her away, but he merely leaned farther back.  
  
They returned to Moya in silence.  
  
-----------------------------  
  
They were in the displacement chamber room when the first shimmering began. D'Argo and Chiana hovered just above eyesight, trying to maintain their low altitude and aim. John crouched in a corner near the door, Winona held ready.  
  
They watched as six sets of feet appeared, then legs hips. Slowly the Groelesh were reforming on the platform and John still couldn't tell which one was Aeryn. Finally, their emergence was complete and he saw her held in the close embrace of one of the soldiers. He aimed for the black helmet, but before he could fire Aeryn kicked with her good foot and knocked the soldier next to her to the floor.  
  
Pulse blasts filled the room, everyone running and ducking to avoid being shot. The soldier holding Aeryn tried to shield her, getting a pulse rifle across the helmet. Knocked unconscious, the two fell to the floor. John was surprised when Aeryn, one leg useless, began to drag her captive soldier and herself away from the enemy. He ran to her side, grabbing her arm. "Aeryn, get over here!" He tried to pry her away, still firing with one hand to cover their position.  
  
"Not without Tean!" she shouted. Frustrated, she shook off John's hand. "I need a frelling pulse pistol!"  
  
A black, shiny pistol dropped from the sky, landing near her head. Without pausing to wonder where it materialized from, she scooped it up, rolled onto her back and aimed at Letchner. She fired once, the recoil slamming her into John, who was kneeling behind her.  
  
A pink ball of light shot from the gun and hit Letchner directly between the eyes. Instantly every vein in his body expanded, creating an intricate map against his pale skin. He began screaming and the entire room froze in horror as the man's feet melted into slimy goo. His skin was dripping from the meat beneath like melting candle wax. His eyes glowed bright red as if a fire burned behind them. Layer by layer, inch by inch he melted away.   
  
His screams turned to gurgled cries.  
  
His entire lower half was a puddle that his upper torso rested in, his meaty arms reaching out beseechingly to Aeryn to save him. His stomach, his shoulders and arms, then finally his head and face liquefied.  
  
"292, 291, 290…"  
  
"No one move," Aeryn said pointing a slightly shaking weapon at one of the remaining soldiers, "or I'll… turn you into a little… puddle of… goo."  
  
"What did you give her?" John asked Chiana, horrified.  
  
"You went into the coat again, didn't you?" D'Argo accused.  
  
"She asked for a pulse pistol, I gave her one. I didn't know it would… do that!" Chiana defended herself.  
  
The four remaining soldiers threw down their weapons. "All of us can still get off this ship," John said. "I got nothin' against you guys and your leader is dead. You leave us alone, we leave you alone. Deal?"  
  
A loud *pop* filled the room and the forgotten tech fell from the roof, directly landing on two of the soldiers, knocking them out.  
  
Two more *pops* resounded and Chiana and D'Argo crashed heavily to the floor. "Ouch," Chiana gasped, pulling herself to her feet and helping up her companion. Aeryn kept her weapon trained on the two remaining soldiers as Crichton holstered Winona and scooped her into his arms. D'Argo threw Tean, still unconscious, over his shoulder and they ran for Lo'Laa.  
  
"We'll never get out in time!" Chiana shouted.  
  
"Can your force field protect us?" John asked, still running.  
  
"It withstood a nuclear blast," D'Argo reminded them.  
  
They reached the still open hatch to the upper tier, and with everyone either lifting or pushing, they managed to get Tean and Aeryn into maintenance. The two men once again grabbed Aeryn and Tean and bolted for Lo'Laa, Chiana following close behind.  
  
"20, 19, 18, 17…"  
  
They ran their hardest, never slowing for the ramp that was still lowering. "8, 7, 6…"  
  
D'Argo raised the ramp, reciting the Luxan words to activate the force field.  
  
"2, 1…"  
  
Nothing happened.  
  
"That was it?" Chiana asked through desperate heaving gulps of air. John was wheezing, having collapsed on a seat with Aeryn on his lap. D'Argo held a stitch in his side. "We killed ourselves for that? I've got something in my coat…"  
  
"NO!" three voices shouted.  
  
All exterior force fields keeping the vacuum of space at bay instantly vaporized and everything not anchored was immediately sucked into space. Everyone was thrown to the ground with the unexpected movement, landing on each other haphazardly.  
  
"Look," Chiana gasped from underneath Tean, and the haggard crew turned to the view screen in time to watch the giant yellow Twinkie of a ship they'd been expelled from, explode into an impressive green ball of flame. No one was sorry to see the ship of horrors disintegrate before them, but Aeryn was surprised at the feeling of satisfaction.  
  
They began to untangle themselves, and Aeryn realized she now had blood smeared on her, thanks to Crichton. "What is this dren?" she asked disgustedly.  
  
"Dinner," John answered as he pulled a glob of fish guts from under his gun belt and threw it at Chiana. 


	3. Epilogue

-------------------------------  
  
EPILOGUE  
  
---------------  
  
She stood in the shelter of his arms, his chin resting on her head, the stars shining above them as they stood on the terrace. She listened to his erratic heartbeat beneath her ear, and she knew this was as hard for him as it was for her. That knowledge only added anger to her despair.  
  
"Tell me again why I can't go," she said in a shaky voice.  
  
"The answer isn't going to change, Princess." His soft, caressing words were belied by the tightening of his arms, pulling her even closer to him. "You're safe on Moya. I can't protect you from both your pursuers and mine."  
  
Trying to convince him she didn't need protection was useless, so she threw out the same argument for the hundredth time. "So stay."  
  
"I have contracts to honor." The answer never changed.  
  
"Frell your contracts!"  
  
She felt his fingers lace into her hair, pulling her head gently back until she was forced to meet his gaze. Looking into his eyes, she knew he wasn't going to change his mind, or his plans. He had decided he was bad for her, and he was leaving.  
  
She felt an invisible hand reach into her chest, grab her heart and squeeze. Gentle tears slowly threaded their way down her cheeks. She didn't know what to tell him; how to convey he was hurting her worse by leaving her behind.  
  
Softly, he kissed one trail of tears and then the other before meeting her lips. At first, it was a gentle benediction, a fleeting good-bye. Something exploded between them, and the soft caress was suddenly urgent, desperate, unmeasured. She realized he had no more control than she did and hope flared. Where words failed, maybe unspoken communication would convince him.  
  
The kiss deepened as she poured out every emotion, every feeling of love she possessed. Silently she chanted, "I love you, don't go, I love you," hoping he could hear her silent pleading in her touch.  
  
Every graze of his lips, every flick of his tongue, every caress of his hands screamed, "I want you, you're mine." He wouldn't go; he couldn't, not after this.  
  
He ripped his mouth from hers, pulling her arms from around his neck. Without a word, he stormed from the terrace and away from his princess.  
  
The hand clutching her heart squeezed tighter, the passageway from her throat to her lungs cut. She found herself gasping for air as she fell to her knees, her body convulsing with silent sobs. The tears puddled on the floor beneath her. He'd left her.   
  
Two gentle hands lifted her into familiar comforting arms. How many times had she found solace in this embrace? She buried her face into his black t-shirt as he caressed her hair. "Shhh," he soothed as he rocked her. "It'll be all right."  
  
"It... hurts," she choked out before another sob broke.  
  
"I know, honey. Believe me, I know." Her father kissed her hair. "He'll be back," he claimed with so much certainty, she found herself daring to believe him.  
  
She held onto his words, her crushed hope faintly lifting. She clutched her father's strong shoulders as the oppressive, searing pain continued to snake through her chest and stomach. Never before had she been so grateful for her father. As he knelt on the terrace holding her, comforting her, she swore amidst her sobs that she would never under-appreciate him again. 


End file.
